


For the Very First Time

by Linsky



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Rookie Year, Virginity, the boys are dumb and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 13:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linsky/pseuds/Linsky
Summary: Auston chuckles. “You must be really fucking demanding in bed.”“Yeah, I probably would be,” Mitch says.“Wouldbe?” Auston repeats.





	For the Very First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 1M words week, everyone! This is the week in which I post something somewhere every day (and also something on Tumblr every day) to celebrate my having written a very unreasonable amount of words of fanfiction.
> 
> This story I actually found when I was looking for unfinished openings to post on Tumblr. Turns out this one was finished. You know how sometimes a potential conversation pops into your head and you immediately know you have to give it to some hockey boys, no matter what else you’re in the middle of writing at the time? Yeah.
> 
> Join me on [Tumblr](https://linskywords.tumblr.com) to celebrate the rest of the week! And, you know, in general.

There are a lot of things Mitch loves about being in the NHL. The schedule, it turns out, is not one of them.

It’s probably his own fault, for getting spoiled last year in Juniors. Playing with a bunch of high-schoolers when you don’t have to go to high school anymore is pretty fucking luxurious. But actually he’s pretty sure anyone would be worn out. They’re playing hockey at a crazy high level, and he loves it, but holy fuck he is sore and exhausted, like, all the time.

Fortunately, he’s got good teammates.

“Oh my god, you’re a life saver,” he says to Auston in a tone of voice he probably should be embarrassed about but nope. They’re in Auston’s apartment, watching a movie, and Mitch was maybe complaining a little bit about how the knots in his shoulders. Usually when Mitch complains about stuff it leads to teasing and shouts to shut up and get over it, but this is Matts, and he’s the best, so what he does instead is reach over and dig his thumbs into Mitch’s shoulders.

“Holy fuck, you are just ridiculously good at that,” Mitch says as his eyes close involuntarily. It hurts, but the kind of hurt where he can tell it’s doing something, and honestly his muscles deserve a little pain after all the pain they’ve been putting him through. Or something. He can’t think clearly; Auston is creating some kind of mini-heaven in his upper back.

“You know, you could get massages at the rink,” Auston says. “They have trainers for this stuff.”

“Mm-hm, will do, don’t stop,” Mitch says. How did Mitch not know Auston had amazing hands? Or, well, he guesses he did, but only where hockey was concerned. “Can you do my neck, too? Yeah, like that, but higher—yeah, a little harder than that. No, not that hard. Like halfway between that and the thing before. Yeah. That’s perfect.”

Auston chuckles behind him while making Mitch’s neck nerves sing. “You must be really fucking demanding in bed.”

“Yeah, I probably would be,” Mitch says distractedly.

“_Would_ be?” Auston repeats.

It takes a second for Mitch to realize what he said. Then his eyes pop open. Auston’s fingers are still doing that thing to the base of his skull, and Mitch breathes into it to keep himself from tensing up. “I mean, we’re not in bed right now,” he hedges.

“Right, obviously.” Auston sounds entertained. “But, like, do you not actually know if you are?”

There are breezy answers Mitch could make to that. _I’ve never had any complaints,_ maybe, or, _I mean, I make up for it pretty well._ He could probably even get away with it. But whether it’s because of Auston’s hands on his skin, or because Auston’s dad has gone to bed and the apartment is quiet around them, or because it’s Auston—whatever the reason, Mitch finds himself saying, “I don’t know. I’ve never found out.”

He can tell from the way Auston is silent that he gets it. His hands stop moving for a moment on Mitch’s neck, and then they start again, traveling back down to dig into the tops of his shoulders. “Oh,” he says finally.

“Yeah, it’s not something I’d spread around the locker room or anything,” Mitch says. His heart is going a little fast. “It’s just, never had the right opportunity, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” Auston’s hands are working into the tight spots between Mitch’s shoulder blades. “Like, if I hadn’t had a girlfriend sophomore year, I’m not sure I—like, it’s harder to get there if you haven’t done it before, right?”

“Definitely,” Mitch says, relieved. “The whole thing where your first time is a thing, it makes it weird if you haven’t. And you don’t want things to be weird with someone, so.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of dumb but it’s also totally a thing,” Auston says, and Mitch is just so happy he gets it. He would never have deliberately started a conversation about it but he’s glad he did now.

He’s even glad the next day, when Auston comes to pick Mitch up and gives him an extra-warm smile. It’s like what Mitch told him didn’t make a difference and also made a huge one, both at the same time: it made it so they can tell each other stuff they wouldn’t tell other people and have it makes things better, not worse. Mitch shoulder-checks Auston extra hard when they’re getting out onto the ice for practice, and Auston pretends to stumble, and they laugh about it and it’s all even better than it was before.

It’s also better when they’re at a bar pretty soon after, and some of the guys are talking about hooking up and Mitch feels kind of awkward like he always does. He’s good at talking to girls—to everyone, really; _not_ talking is way more of a challenge for him—but he doesn’t really know how to turn that talking into anything else. It always seems to end up with the girl telling him he’s adorable and ruffling his hair and going off to dance with guys who talk less and, like, smolder more. Or something. Mitch doesn’t really know what the next step is, but he doesn’t seem to be making it.

That’s just happened with a few girls up by the bar, and Mitch is maybe brooding about it a little. Or trying, anyway. He’s not very good at brooding. “Are you glaring at your beer?” Auston asks, nudging him.

“Yeah, I—” And he doesn’t have to make something up, and that’s _awesome_. “I just kind of want to solve this thing at some point, you know?” he says, lowering his voice and waving his hand toward the bar.

Auston frowns. “You don’t have to _solve_ it. You’re not a problem.”

Mitch cracks a grin. Auston is kind of ridiculous sometimes. “I know,” he says. “But, like—okay, it’s like hockey, right? If you’ve never done it, you’re going to be bad at it, so you have to practice. But I can’t start practicing until I, like, inflict that badness on someone. So. Gotta just lace up the skates and get ready to fall down on the ice, right?”

Auston looks vaguely horrified. “That was, like, the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard,” he says, and Mitch starts giggling. It takes a minute, but finally Auston joins in—laughing more at the way Mitch is laughing than at the actual funny thing, maybe, but Mitch will take it. “You’re ridiculous,” Auston says.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you,” Mitch says, and Auston bumps his shoulder, and Mitch doesn’t want to glare at his beer anymore.

They don’t really talk about it for a while after that. It’s really not something Mitch thinks about constantly or anything. And they have a few tough games—the Bruins, which is always a shit-show, if only because of the fans—and it’s a while before Mitch has time to collapse on Auston’s couch again.

That’s obviously what he does on their first day off, only in part so that they can right the egregious wrong of Auston never having seen _The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt._ The other part is how he can tip over and drape himself over Auston’s knees and nudge him until Auston starts petting his hair.

“I feel like you’re about to start purring,” Auston says. He sounds like he can’t decide if that’s an insult or not.

“Prrr,” Mitch says, trying to roll his r’s, which makes Auston the Spanish speaker laugh at him.

“Seriously, though, you’re, like, the cuddliest person I know,” Auston says. “I can’t believe you’ve never had sex. You’d probably love it.”

“I know, right?” Mitch says. “The world is missing out on my touchy-feeliness, here.”

“Lucky you’ve got me,” Auston says, half-jokingly.

“The best,” Mitch says sleepily against his knees. Really, though, he loves that about being hockey player: that people aren’t afraid to just touch each other. Auston’s hands are basically magic right now, and Mitch would definitely go crazy if no one ever touched him like this. 

They’re quite for a few minutes after that, which Mitch doesn’t think anything of—they’re watching Kimmy try to rent an apartment, and Auston is petting his head, and all is right with the world. The Auston clears his throat and shifts his weight and says, “I could maybe do that for you.”

“Hm?” Mitch says. He’s halfway to asleep by now.

“If you wanted to get through the first time, or whatever,” Auston says, and—hang on.

“Wait, what?” Mitch says, turning over so he can look up at Auston’s face instead of the TV.

Auston takes his hand out of Mitch’s hair. He looks crazy uncomfortable. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s obviously—you don’t have to, like—”

“Hang on.” Mitch should definitely not be lying in Auston’s lap for this. He sits up. “Are you—what are you saying?”

Auston’s face is brick red. “It’s dumb. I was just thinking about what you were talking about before. Not being able to practice until you’re not terrible at it, or whatever, and I could—yeah. If you wanted.”

“Whoa,” Mitch says. He’s not even sure what he’s saying. “That’s. Um.”

Auston shrugs one shoulder. He’s staring down at his hands. “I mean. I don’t know if you’re into guys, or.”

Mitch’s heart is beating way too fast right now. He licks his lips like twice before he gets words out. “I’m not…_not_ into guys.”

“Right, so. Okay,” Auston says. He spreads his hands over his thighs, where Mitch’s head was lying until recently. “So, if you want…”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. He feels like maybe he should think about this more, but—“Yeah,” he says again. “Let’s do this.”

Auston meets his gaze. He looks kind of startled, even though he suggested this. “Now?”

“Is your dad home?” Mitch asks. His body is kind of reacting to the idea of doing this now. He’s really aware of his mouth and his hands and the way Auston’s tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Auston shakes his head. “I think he went to run some—I don’t know. He went out a while back.”

“So he could come home soon.” Mitch knows that means they should probably wait for another time, but his eyes are locked with Auston’s and he’s already pretty hard.

“So…so we should hurry?” Auston says.

“Yeah,” Mitch says, and they scramble off the couch towards Auston’s room.

Auston has this huge king-size bed that Mitch feels like he’d get lost in if he slept in it. “Yeah, ’cause you’re tiny,” Auston says when Mitch says that.

“I’m super tall,” Mitch says nonsensically. “Way taller than you.”

“You are, huh?” Auston says, coming towards him to compare. Which means he’s standing really close to Mitch, and Mitch’s eyes dart around his face, and Auston’s mouth is right there.

“So, um,” Auston says all soft, and leans in.

Mitch has done this part before. But the shock of it blooms in his stomach anyway, maybe because he knows they’re going to have sex, or because of the way Auston angles Mitch’s head while they open their mouths, Mitch doesn’t know. He’s never thought about Auston like this before, not really. But it feels weird and different to be doing this with someone where this isn’t the closest they’ve been. They’ve already, like, talked about this, and Auston knows how much he has and hasn’t done. And he really _likes_ Auston. Kissing him feels kind of like an extension of that, which isn’t how it’s ever worked for Mitch before.

Auston’s tongue is in his mouth, and it’s really really soft and shivery. Mitch gets his arms around Auston’s neck, and Auston puts his hands on Mitch’s ass, pulls him closer, and oh wow.

Mitch doesn’t want to seem eager by grinding against Auston right away—but then he thinks, fuck it, he’ll be eager; Auston already _knows_ he hasn’t done this before. And the way it feels when his cock grinds against Auston’s is so good that Mitch’s whole body tingles. He can feel Auston react, too, a subtle shuddering through his whole frame, and his fingers tighten on Mitch’s ass.

They break the kiss after a while, and Auston lets Mitch slide back down to his feet. Auston’s lips are really wet and red, and his eyes look dark and kind of shell-shocked. His hands go up to Mitch’s waist. “You going to be demanding now?” he asks in this voice that’s lower and raspier than it usually is.

“Hell, yeah,” Mitch says, and puts Auston’s hands back on his ass.

Auston laughs, breathy, and digs his fingers in again. It feels really awesome: Mitch has never made out with a guy before, and when he’s made out with girls they haven’t done this. He hadn’t realized how sensitive he was there.

He says that out loud, and Auston’s mouth drops open a little. “Yeah?” he says. “Do you want to find out what else you like?”

“Okay,” Mitch says, and he finds Auston’s mouth again, hides the little shock of nerves in more kisses.

He feels kind of dumb and daring when he undoes his own pants. Auston gets his hands under them right away, right down the back of Mitch’s boxers, and Mitch almost swallows both their tongues. His cock feels even better than before as he rolls his hips against the front of Auston’s jeans, even if Auston’s cock is probably strangling in there.

Mitch has never had to, like, worry about the well-being of someone else’s cock before. Or their anything, really. He gets Auston’s pants open—backwards buttons are hard—and shoves them down so it’s just the soft layers of underwear between them. He finds Auston’s cock and strokes it so that Auston moans and stops kissing him to thunk his head down on Mitch’s shoulder.

Mitch does it again and laughs, a little. It’s kind of ridiculous how good he can make Auston feel by, like, not even doing that much. It’s like—“Like we have a cheat code,” he says, and Auston laughs and moans at the same time.

“Come on, that’s not even a terrible analogy!” Mitch says.

“You are so ridiculous,” Auston says, grinning down at him, his hands still on Mitch’s ass and their cocks hitching together just a little. Mitch breathes in and feels his insides expand with it.

He feels weird about taking off his shirt. Auston sees him naked literally every day, but no one touches his chest in the locker room. Auston does now, though, all over, his hands finding the good spots Mitch didn’t know were there. He likes the feeling of fingers spanning his ribs. He likes the zing that goes through him when Auston rubs his nipples.

He likes when both their shirts are off, and their skin can press together. When he thinks about guys like this he usually thinks: mouths, nipples, cock, ass. But _skin_ turns out to be a thing, too, skin anywhere, the expanse of chest and stomach and all those squishy important organs right below the surface, almost no barrier between them. It makes Mitch feel weird in a good way to have someone else’s body stripped down so close to his.

Auston pushes down Mitch’s boxers before his own. It sends a charge through Mitch to be naked when Auston isn’t yet, one that might be nerves and might be excitement but either way it makes everything seem more important. Then Auston wraps his hand around Mitch’s dick and Mitch is glad Auston isn’t naked yet, because he might have to reciprocate and he definitely isn’t capable of that while that touch is rocketing through him.

“H’ly fuck,” he mumbles into Auston’s shoulder, and Auston huffs a laugh.

“Got more demands?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. I.” Mitch’s hips stutter into Auston’s grip, which is almost—not quite—

“Here.” Auston steers them towards the bed, which Mitch is weirdly reluctant about: he doesn’t want to leave these positions that have been working really well for them, where he already feels comfortable. But Auston strips off his own pants and underwear and lies down next to Mitch, his own dick bobbing and exposed and Mitch is so grateful to him, suddenly, for being naked, too. For not making Mitch be in this space alone.

“Thank you,” he says to Auston, which is totally dumb and Auston obviously thinks so but also Mitch can tell he gets it.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Auston says, his eyes soft, and touches a finger to Mitch’s lip, this super light glancing touch that reverberates through Mitch’s whole body.

When Auston wraps a hand around Mitch’s dick again it’s hard to concentrate on anything else. It feels good right away, obviously: there’s a hand on his dick. But it’s also a little dry, and that makes Mitch pull back from it a little—

“Now is when you say things,” Auston says.

“You’re going to kill me,” Mitch says, turning his face to press against the bedspread. Auston brings his other hand around behind Mitch’s head right away, which is awesome. “Um, yeah, lube, maybe?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Auston says, stretching across to his bedside table. Mitch watches him abstractly, the stretch of his chest, the realness of Auston laid bare before him. There are little dips in his skin where the muscles are layered over each other, and Mitch runs his fingers across them. “Your skin is really soft,” he says.

Auston turns back, eyes lazy with the pleasure of it, like a cat lying in the sun. “Pretty sure it’s just skin.”

“Well, I haven’t touched that many people’s skin before.”

“You can touch mine all you want,” Auston says, and Mitch does: strokes his fingers over the curves of Auston’s stomach and abs, finding the spots where soft hair gathers under his fingers. Auston’s cock is lying hard against his lower belly, and he’s breathing fast and light, but Mitch isn’t in a hurry. He plays with Auston’s nipples, feathers his fingers over them, figures out what kind of touches make them get hard and tight.

At some point Auston gets his hand back on Mitch’s dick, slick with lube, and Mitch closes his eyes and tips his head against Auston’s shoulder. “Oh,” he says. “I…ohhh.” Auston’s touch lights him up more than his own ever has, little fireworks running up his veins.

“That good?” Auston asks roughly.

“Yeah. Little tighter at the end…yeah.” Mitch opens his mouth and laves the patch of Auston’s shoulder under it with his tongue. So much skin that’s not his own. Auston’s touch makes him want to get closer; the pleasure crackling all over his body makes him want to latch on. This is so…Auston’s so…

“Mm yeah,” he says as Auston turns on his side and starts kissing him. Big open-mouthed kisses, the kind Mitch wants to push into. He gets his hand behind Auston’s head so he can do it properly. The pleasure is jolting through his body now, skittering beyond what he can control. “Aus,” he says, half a moan.

“Yeah,” Auston says against his mouth. It’s low and warm and slides down into Mitch’s belly to join the heat there.

Mitch is panting too hard to keep kissing, stomach muscles jumping with the strokes of Auston’s hand. “Like that, just like that,” he says against Auston’s mouth. “A little—faster—oh fuck—yes, oh my god, yes, Auston, just like—oh god—” And his hips are bucking and he’s coming, Auston is tearing it out of him, this raging torrent of _oh god_—

Mitch slumps against the bed, mouth open to catch as much air as possible. Auston’s hand are on him as he catches his breath, and the aftershocks are hot and melty and wow.

“Wow,” he says, putting a hand on Auston’s chest. The skin is slick to his touch, sheened with sweat. Auston’s eyes are dark, focused on Mitch.

“Yeah?” Auston says.

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “This was such a good idea.”

He sees something complicated go through Auston’s eyes and then resolve. Auston’s still breathing through an open mouth, his chest rising and falling quickly under Mitch’s hand. Mitch moves his fingers over to brush against a nipple, and Auston hisses.

The way his face tightens and relaxes is so…Mitch presses against the nipple to watch it happen again. Then he reaches down to take hold of Auston’s cock.

“Oh,” Auston says, low. His cock is so hot to the touch, like all the blood is right there at the surface. It feels like Mitch’s own, but backwards, a little thicker, the foreskin a little tighter. Auston’s eyes flutter when Mitch strokes along the stretch of it.

It’s so different, doing this for someone else. Mitch has to think about what to do instead of getting the instant feedback of his own body. But he gets a different kind of feedback: the way Auston’s head drops, the way his breath hitches.

“Lube?” Mitch asks.

“Yeah,” Auston says, a puff of air.

“Here, turn over.” Auston turns onto his other side, and Mitch gets close behind him, Auston’s back pressed to his front. When he wraps his lube-slick hand around Auston’s cock again, he can feel the shudder through Auston’s body. He can feel the minute hitches of Auston’s hips as he pushes into Mitch’s touch.

This must be why people have sex where they’re inside each other: to feel all this stuff so close. He says that out loud, and Auston groans. “Just keep—” he says, and he slings a hand back to wrap around Mitch’s hip while Mitch pumps his cock.

“Like, it would be really awesome,” Mitch says, “to be that close,” and Auston’s hips jerk under his hand.

Auston’s neck is slick with sweat, and Mitch licks it: long strokes along his nape, to his hairline. It’s salty and hot and Mitch sucks to get more of it, which makes Auston whine a little, edges of sound on his panting breaths. It’s kind of overwhelming: feeling Auston fall apart in his arms. Mitch didn’t know how much he would like this, giving someone else pleasure, finding the perfect rhythm to make everything slide up a notch. “God, this is hot,” Mitch says as he tightens his hand. “_You’re_ really hot; did you know that? I didn’t know that. It’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Oh my god, _you’re_ ridiculous,” Auston says, hips stuttering in Mitch’s grip. “This is—”

“Yeah, come on,” Mitch says, and Auston does: shoots all over himself, his body going rigid against Mitch’s and his cock spurting hot until he finally goes limp again. Mitch takes his hand off Auston’s cock and touches the place on his stomach where most of the come landed.

“Y’re so gross,” Auston murmurs, and Mitch laughs. The come is slick against Auston’s skin, and it feels good to dig his fingers in beneath it. Everything about Mitch’s body feels good right now.

Auston turns over so they’re facing each other and kisses Mitch again. It’s a nice surprise: Mitch wasn’t sure if they would kiss after sex, but it feels normal to do it. It makes his body hum in this relaxed way that’s not really turned on, just…happy.

“I hate to break it to you,” Auston says, separating their mouths, “but that didn’t suck.”

His eyes are dancing. “Damn,” Mitch says. “You mean I wasted all this time for nothing?”

“I mean,” Auston says, “I don’t want to give you false hope. You might be terrible next time.”

“Oh, good point,” Mitch says. “Like, handjobs are probably the easy part. There are lots of other things I could suck at. If you catch my drift.”

He waggles his eyebrows. Auston groans and covers his face with his hands. Mitch starts laughing, and then Auston does, too, and then his mouth is on Mitch’s again and Mitch is being pushed onto his back against the bedspread.

He smiles up at Auston when he breaks the kiss. “You want to help me get good at some other stuff?”

Auston looks serious and happy at the same time, which wasn’t a thing Mitch knew could happen, but he likes it. “I really, really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then they become boyfriends and live happily ever after. THE END.


End file.
